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Best Friends Pvt. Fredrick E. Doty Pvt. Edward N. Bruso 47 yrs. later, Sgt. Richard (Rick) Holton.
Best Moment Qualifying Expert on the rifle range with the M-14. On the original qualifying day a ground fog caused qualifying to be postponed. I was on the 500 yd. line working on a perfect score when it was called off. On the following day we fired for record. I qualified Expert but missed the black with a couple of shots.
Worst Moment A few days after being picked up by our drill instructors, Cpl. Rollings, the Jr. D.I. entered the squad bay and imformed us that President Kennedy had been assassinated. I believe the news gave all of us a sick feeling.
Instructors Sr. Drill Instructor: S/Sgt Frank Moser Jr. Drill Instructor: S/Sgt H.T. Riley Jr. Drill Instructor: Cpl Wayne Rollins
Other Memories Pvt. Lorenzo R. Bancells-Pulled for OCS PFC. Kjell K.B. Gustafsson-American Spirit Honor Medal recipient Pvt. Chester D. Wilsoncroft-Native American Mail Call: Mail call was one event to which we all looked forward. One particular night during mail call I provided a training opportunity for Platoon 288. As S/Sgt. Riley proceeded with mail call, we were in our usual positions at the foot of our racks standing at attention with eyes locked forward. I was directly across from my squad leader Pvt. McCourt. We were located about 10-15 feet from S/Sgt. Riley as he called recruits to pick up their mail. Any recruit to my left would pass me twice when their names were called. After a particular recruit had been called several times to pick up several letters, I noticed a hint of a grin on McCourt's face. It was clear to me what he didn't want to grin about. The passing recruit was running like a girl. It immediately struck me as outrageously funny. His name was called several more times and each time it was progressively more difficult to hold it in. Finally, I burst out with an instant of unrestrained laughter (more like a half laugh). I was suddenly shocked back to reality when S/Sgt. Riley materialized immediately in my face barking like a mad dog wanting to know what I was laughing at. Being the private with the "empty bucket" so to speak, I replied "Nothing Sir!" He did't believe me. After several unsuccessful attempts to get to the truth, S/Sgt. Riley sent me to the head (bathroom) to wait for him. S/Sgt. Riley completed mail call and slowly walked to the head. His every step was magnified and I was hanging on each one as I dreadfully listened to him approach. He continued his interrogation and coaching in private for several minutes. Finally he ordered me to "Get outa here!" I beat feet back to my rack and turned to on free time. Strangely, my nose and lip were bleeding and my skivey shirt was off color. I got cleaned up and S/Sgt Riley re-entered the squad bay. When he saw me, he was in my face again wanting to know what had happened to me. I told him I had tripped over my footlocker, to which, he said nothing more and walked away. This "training opportunity" served me well and remains with me, a fond memory.